A Mother's Heart
by Aleine Skyfire
Summary: For two happy years, John and Mary Watson were parents.  Follow their experiences - their hopes, joys, and sorrows - through the eyes of Mary Watson as she raises her baby boy.
1. When a Child Is Born

**Author's Note:**

To make up to my wonderful readers for "Those Dark Hours" last Saturday (and to purge myself of a very real bit of guilt), I decided to do something happy with the Watson family. This little series, then, is looking at the Hiatus years through the eyes of Mary Watson—more specifically, looking at her husband and her son. These stories will also be non-linear, as I'll just be writing whatever comes to mind whenever it happens.

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><p><em>© 2011 by Aleine Skyfire.<em>

_All rights reserved._

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><p><strong>==A Mother's Heart==<strong>

**1. When a Child Is Born**

"Tired, love?"

Mary smiled wearily up at her husband. "Very. Little Arthur certainly wanted to be born in a hurry."

John chuckled softly. "I suppose we deserve it for making his middle name _Sherlock_."

"Mm." She looked down at the baby nursing in her arms. "He _is_ big, isn't he? Big and strong. Like his father."

"I hope he'll be a better man," said John, quite seriously.

Mary smiled again, this time not looking up from stroking the baby's soft, coppery hair. "That would be quite an accomplishment, darling." She sighed happily. "…He is _so_ very perfect."

"He's his mother's son."

"He's also his father's."

When she looked up, John's hazel eyes were warm and shining with love. "You should get some sleep now," he whispered. "Doctor's orders."

"Yes, sir," Mary murmured sleepily, too tired and too content to argue. John slipped into bed beside her and carefully threaded his good arm around her shoulders, and she nestled against him.

_Life cannot get much better than this_.

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><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

Now, don't expect regular updates, okay? AMM comes first and foremost. I should also add right now that whatever stories fall under this title will probably end up in my future project, the _Deliver Us From Evil_ series. You can check out the post by that name on my blog, www dot studysherlockiana dot blogspot dot com, for more details.

I'd also like to note that, as I write these stories (and all my Sherlockian fiction, for that matter), I see David Burke (Granada, seasons 1 & 2) in my mind's eye as Watson. Unfortunately, I don't have a film template for Mary (I've only ever seen a couple of clips of Granada's SIGN, and that wasn't enough to give me any sort of impression). But I could very much see and hear David!Watson in this little scene, and it was enough to make me wish I was Mary. =)

_**Please review!**_


	2. This Perfect Moment in Time

**Author's Note:**

I've had this bouncing in my brain since the first upload, but I've been too busy to do anything about it. Fortunately, the quality was not lost at all—it was never anything concrete, only ephemeral. Therefore, I'm happy to say that this turned out beautifully.

**To my reviewers:**

Moonspun Dragon: Thank you, darlin'!

SabrinaPhynn: Awww! *is hugged and delightedly accepts brownies* Thank you!

The Pearl Maiden: Thanks, sweetheart! *hugs* Ha, the "Sherlock bug" I caught is here to stay, I think. ^_^ (You can check out the blog on my profile for more info… or I can just PM you sometime…)

Mam'zelleCombeferre: Hee, usually, I wish I was , so wishing I was Mary instead was a new but delightful experience. =D Thank you! Weeell… I feel almost obligated to feel a just a little bit guilty over "Those Dark Hours"… at least 'til my mom's read it. Yeah, don't ask. ;D

nomdeplume30: Thank you! Yeah, I know about 2009!Mary—finally watched a clip from the movie the other day, and it was of the dinner with her, Holmes, and Watson. That… was actually pretty funny. xD What's even funnier is that I know that actress as Caroline Bingely from the 2005 _Pride and Prejudice_, starring Keira Knightley as Elizabeth Bennett. ^_^ Totally different personality!

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><p><em>© 2011 by Aleine Skyfire.<em>

_All rights reserved._

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><p><strong>==2. <strong>**This Perfect Moment in Time==**

A low, insistent wail drifted from the direction of the cradle. Mary stifled a groan and sat up in bed, taking care not to rouse her husband.

Her caution was unnecessary. John pushed himself up as she was slipping out from underneath the bedclothes. "Go back to sleep, love," she murmured, trundling tiredly to the cradle.

He yawned. "As long as he's determined to be noisy, he'll keep me awake," he assured her.

She shook her head and bent down, lifting up the baby and wearily settling into the rocking chair to nurse him. However, Arthur did not seem to appreciate the feeding, and his cries became more pronounced. "John?" Mary said, a trifle worriedly.

"He may be a bit colicky," John told her, slipping out of bed and shrugging on his dressing gown, "but it also may be nothing but restlessness. Let me have him."

Mary raised the baby up to John's waiting arms, and he hefted Arthur effortlessly to a more comfortable hold. "Now, now, my little man, you mustn't trouble your mother so. No, you mustn't."

Arthur continued to wail.

"I shall take him downstairs," John decided. "Get some sleep, Mary."

Mary wanted nothing more than to comply, but she knew she had to ask, "Are you certain?"

"Quite. Go on, back to bed."

She smiled wearily. "Yes, Doctor." She obediently climbed back into bed and gazed at him expectantly.

He smiled back at her, looking as tired as she felt. "Goodnight, darling."

"Goodnight, John…" Her farewell ended in a yawn, and she was back asleep almost before he had left the room.

When she reawakened, it was still dark out, but her body clock was telling her that it was time to rise. She turned on the gas, checked the little clock on the bedside table, and saw that it was five to seven. Throwing her dressing gown around her, she padded out of the bedroom and downstairs, halting at the door to the sitting room.

John sat in the rocker before a smoldering fire, asleep, hugging a peacefully sleeping Arthur to him. The baby's rosebud lips were slightly parted as his head rested upon his father's left shoulder. Mary winced a little at the thought of how much that shoulder would pain John once he woke up, but following that reaction, she wished fervently that she could have a photograph of this perfect moment in time. She hung in the doorway, studying the poignant tableau before her and committing every detail to memory, dimly-lit though it was.

She noiselessly glided in and stretched herself out upon the settee, waiting for her family to awaken.

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><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

_Awww!_ *melts over sweetness* There have been moments when I've wished somebody could take a picture of myself and my much-younger siblings as babies, but nobody's ever able or available to do it. Oh, and there is _nothing_ more kissable than a baby's rosebud lips. Seriously, there is not.

Methinks next time we have either Watson singing a lullaby in Gaelic, or Lestrade come to see Watson. One or the other. Might be a while again, though.

_**Please review!**_


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